


this is not what i had in mind

by kennysspace



Series: almost paradise - part one [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 00:13:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21808000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kennysspace/pseuds/kennysspace
Summary: almost paradise: part one - chapter one of sevenyour brother and his friends are in over their heads - they drag you in with them.
Relationships: Steve Harrington/Henderson Reader, Steve Harrington/Reader, Steve Harrington/You
Series: almost paradise - part one [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1571416
Kudos: 28





	this is not what i had in mind

hi everyone! i originally start posting this fic to my tumblr account, which you can find [here](yelennabelova.tumblr.com)

i'm so excited to be bringing it here and sharing my work with this community!

* * *

You bring your eraser up to the top of the page, changing your mind on the third question yet again. The paper’s starting to rip underneath the rubber, your frustration clearly being let out on your homework for tomorrow’s chemistry class.

The pressure of college being only two years away has been wearing you down - everyone’s been able to tell, your little brother especially. 

“Jesus Christ, Y/N, give it a rest already!” Dustin says as he walks past your room. You can practically hear the smirk on his stupid little face. You laugh at his tone, his presence helping to calm and relax you a bit.

“Hey - wait!” You call after him, “How’d the campaign go?” You hear his backpack land on his bed before he loops back into the threshold of your room, “Holy shit-”

“Language, Dusty!” Your mom calls from the living room over the hum of the evening’s news. Dustin rolls his eyes and pulls your door shut behind him.

“Mike brought out the Demogorgon. The god damn Demogorgon!”

Your pencil drops to the page in front of you in disbelief, “No!”

“Yes! I told Will to cast protection, but did he listen to me? No!” He’s now pacing, arms in the air as he relays the groups latest adventure to you, “He cast Fireball, Y/N. _Fireball_!”

You furrow your eyebrows, mouth halfway open as you check the watch on your wrist, “You played for ten hours?”

Dustin scoffs in your direction, “Yeah, what else do you think we were doing?” You shrug, mocking him with your facial expression. He flips you off rather aggressively before continuing.

“And, now, I owe Will my X-Men 134!”

“What? Why? Seriously, issue 134, are you insane? That’s the Dark Phoenix storyline-”

“ _You think I don’t know that_?” He sighs and plummets face-first into your bed, his classic red and blue hat flying up to your pillows. You snort, picking it up by the bill and placing it lightly on top of his massive curls.

“Murder me, honestly,” His words are muffled from the contact with the comforter, a smile erupting over your lips. As he gets back up, he adjusts his hat back on his head, “Never ditch us again, okay? Those morons listen to you.”

You nod once as your grin grows, “Got it.” He turns to face you, “We could’ve used your Rogue in there, you know? We had to break open a couple locks, and Lucas can’t stealth for shit.”

You laugh lightly at his remark, briefly moving your eyes away from him before you answer, “Next time you guys go on an epic adventure, make sure to invite me. I’ll be there.”

“Promise?” Dustin questions, his face practically glowing with admiration. You roll your eyes slightly as you look back, “Yeah, sure. I promise.”

Dustin sends one of his famous smiles and a thumbs up your way before hopping up. He wishes you a good night and leaves the door open on his way out.

You take a deep breath, turning back towards the textbooks sprawled out on your comforter, realizing the real world is waiting for you. The stress from your schoolwork starts to overtake you again, but how else are you going to make your way in the world?

* * *

Loud and vigorous thumping comes from the wall behind your bed - the wall you and Dustin share. 

“GET UP!” Your brother’s shouts almost echo throughout the entire house. He repeats it until you slam your palm against it, “Shut up, shut up!” He giggles on his side of the wall.

Most of your peers would probably hate the idea of being so close with their siblings, but you’re proud to say that Dustin’s your best friend. You haven’t been able to be as lucky with him when it comes to creating lasting relationships. Your time is mostly spent with his friends - the Party, they call themselves.

The only person you could consider an acquaintance outside of those kids is Jonathan Byers, and you’ve only gotten to know him because of sixth period Journalism and being Will’s brother.

Not that that’s a bad thing, Jonathan’s nice. But being friendly with the loner was the only option after Nancy Wheeler ditched you for Barb Holland last year.

Because heaven forbid, she was able to have both of you for friends.

The bacon is a touch burnt again. Dustin’s skills with making breakfast are slowly being nurtured, and your heart swells at the idea of your baby brother making your meal as well. He’s gotten into the habit of it lately, now that your mom’s been working earlier. 

Just as you’re about to sit down, the phone rings. You and Dustin look at each other before you both scramble up to see who can reach it first. The only reason you get to it is due to your height advantage.

Dustin calls you an asshole under his breath and you pull the phone from the wall, “Hello, Henderson house.”

“Y/N, it’s Joyce calling.”

Your forehead creases at the sound of her voice through the receiver. Tilting your head to the side, you respond, “Oh, good morning, Ms. Byers-”

“Joyce is fine, sweetie. I was wondering if Will maybe spent the night with Dustin, I haven’t seen him around this morning.”

“Um, no,” You turn to face your brother, his mouth filled with toast. He mirrors the concern from your expression, “Will didn’t stay over.” Joyce sighs, you can tell she’s already exhausted from the stress and the day’s barely begun. You know just how important her sons are to her, especially after the divorce.

“I’m sorry, Joyce, I’m sure everything’s fine. Keep us updated, okay?”

“I will, thank you anyways,” She hangs up the phone before you can reply back to her. 

“Is everything okay?” Dustin asks. You place the phone back on the receiver, “I guess Will didn’t go home last night after the campaign.” You join him at the table, opening the fresh jar of strawberry jam.

“I’m sure everything’s fine, he sometimes goes to school early to study in the library,” Dustin says, brushing back a curl from his forehead. 

“Right, of course,” You add, taking a bite of your toast, deciding not to overthink the situation until you know for sure something’s wrong.

You finish your breakfast, noticing the time on the clock, “Shit, bud, we gotta bolt.” Dustin helps clean the table and set the dirty dishes in the sink while you grab your bikes from the garage.

You snatch your white helmet from the shelf, strapping it onto your head while Dustin swings his leg over the seat, a smirk growing on his lips, “You look ridiculous.”

“You say that every day.”

“And every day, it’s still true,” He speeds off down the hill before you can slap him. You sigh and can’t help but smile at his antics, “Don’t come crawling to me when you fall off that thing and crack your skull open!”

Dustin’s waiting at the stop sign on Maple Street when you catch up to him. Lucas and Mike roll up as you do, and everyone heads off towards the schools together. 

“Did you guys hear from Ms. Byers this morning?” Lucas asks.

“Yeah, she called,” Mike answers.

“Us too,” Dustin responds, “I mean, Will’s gotta be fine right? Definitely just left early for school?”

“For sure,” Lucas and Mike agree. 

“What do you think, Y/N?” Mike asks as you turn the corner to the school parking lots. You shake your head as you abruptly stop to avoid getting plowed over by Mark Lewinski and his obnoxious ride, earning a gracious, “Watch where you’re going, dipshits!”

“God, high schoolers are such assholes,” Mike says, shaking his head in disgust. You turn to him, eyebrow raised. He sends you a cheeky smile, “Maybe not _all_ of them.”

You scoff at him before placing your foot up on the pedal, “Anyways, I’m not gonna think anything until we know something’s wrong. I suggest you three do the same.” A rather serious look gets sent their way before you begin to make a left towards the bike racks.

“See you at the AV room for lunch, Y/N!” Dustin calls after you, the trio speeding off to the middle school.

* * *

The first three periods of the day drag on. Algebra, chem, psych - they all fly by and yet it doesn’t seem like the day will ever end. You aren’t keeping your promise to the boys - your mind is flooded with worry over Will. What if something did happen to him?

Finally, with history being over, you can head up to the AV club with the boys. You had been apart of a similar group before your family moved, and joined as soon as you got to Hawkins.

Dustin was insistent on becoming involved after seeing how much you loved it. The party even managed to convince Mr. Clarke to keep you involved, letting you plan some activities for them. You can’t say no to them.

Turning the knob to the door, you’re greeted by the three of them huddled around the table.

“What’s going on-” You start, but are pulled forward by your brother, joining them in the circle. 

“Look!” Dustin shouts, “Mr. Clarke got it!”

“The Heathkit radio!” Mike exclaims, “We could talk to Australia on this baby!”

“Isn’t it amazing?” Dustin asks and you respond just as enthusiastically, placing your hands on his shoulders.

You can’t help but feel warm and comforted by their excitement. When you saved up every penny you made to buy these kids their precious walkie talkies, you didn’t know it’d spark such an interest in technology within them. You’d do anything for each and every one of them, without question.

A soft knock prompts Mr.Clarke to reach for the door, and you weren’t expecting to see the principal standing behind it.

“Sorry to interrupt, but may I borrow Mike, Lucas, and Dustin? Ms. Henderson, you might as well come too.” You squeeze your brother’s shoulders after feeling him grow slightly tense, and you know deep in your heart that this is about Will.

* * *

Your leg bounces against the carpet in the secretary’s office. The chief wanted to talk to the kids separately; for what reason, you weren’t sure. The watch on your wrist says you’ve got about fifteen minutes before the bell rings for next period, and you can’t be caught skipping.

“Alright, kids,” The door ahead of you opens, and out comes the boys, swinging their backpacks over their shoulders, “Scram, get out of here.” You stand to greet them, sending them a small smile. 

“I’ll see you after school, okay?” Dustin says, and you shake your head, “Not until after my shift, bud.” You could’ve sworn his face dropped a little, making your heart crack. 

“Come home with me today!” Mike says as they exit the room, and you couldn’t be happier with the friends he’s found. The chief approaches you, and you instantly recognize him from various spots around town.

“Hi, Chief Hopper,” He extends his hand to you, and you shake, “Y/N.”

“Henderson, right?” 

“Yes, sir. Curly-haired kid’s sister.” Hopper motions for you to follow him into the principal’s office, signaling for one of the deputies to shut the door behind you as you pass the threshold. He chuckles a bit at the mention of your brother, “He’s quite a handful, isn’t he?”

You cringe slightly at that, “I hope he wasn’t too much of a hassle.” 

“Alright, take a seat,” Hopper says, pulling a cigarette from the box in his pack pocket. You sit back on the sofa, practically sinking into the worn fabric.

“So, you babysit these kids or what?” He starts and Deputy Powell pulls out a notepad. You shake your head, “No, I don’t. They’re my friends, and I hang out with them, but I wouldn’t consider myself their babysitter.”

“You’re friends with a bunch of seventh graders?” Deputy Callahan asks, pushing his glasses up further on his nose. Hopper rubs his eyes with annoyance as he sighs, “Ignore him. So, what do you know about Will Byers?”

You blow a piece of hair from your face, “Well, he’s quiet, keeps to himself a lot. He isn’t the type of kid to go doing something crazy.”

“Your brother told me that Joyce called you this morning?” You nod, your eyes trained on the cigarette between his fingers, “Yeah, she wanted to know if Will maybe spent the night with us, and he didn’t.”

“Are you aware that he didn’t come into school today?” Hopper adds.

“I figured he didn’t, I didn’t see him with the others.”

“Do you know what way he might’ve ridden home last night?”

You try and wrack your brain for something, you never see Will once he’s past your place, ”Um, I’m pretty sure he goes past Curly and Cornwallis, but I don’t know-”

“Mirkwood?” Hopper asks, turning his attention back towards you. The light bulb goes off in your brain, expression brightening at the mention, “Yes! Yeah, that’s what the kids call it.”

The chief nods and signals something to the deputies before standing, “Alright, you’re free to go. We might reach out if we need anything else from you but in the meantime? Keep those kids in line, don’t let ‘em go sneaking around looking for their friend, alright?”

You send him a nod, grabbing the doorknob in your hand, “Got it, no problem.”

* * *

As of reaching the high school, you’ve got five minutes before the next period starts. Your heart’s racing at the idea of being late to class; you can’t afford to have anything on your high school record.

You turn the corner to find the French room, taking a deep breath before entering, thankful that you’ve managed to make it on time. But you don’t get away that easy; sitting on top of your desk is none other than the red-head herself, Carol. 

“Hey, Carol,” You say, grabbing her attention away from her idiot boyfriend Tommy, “Get your ass off my seat.”

“Awe, that’s cute,” Carol responds before blowing a bubble with her gum. It pops almost instantly afterwards and she laughs, “Henderson trying to stick up for herself for once.”

Tommy comes up from behind her and he slings an arm over her shoulder, his smirk growing inch by inch, “You’ll get it back once you’ve said the magic word.”

You know just how petty this all is, but you can’t help but want to fight back further, although you don’t know how far it would get you. Those two would know exactly how to tear you down.

“Are you serious, right now-” You start to say but get shoved by someone pushing by, their voice in your ear as they do so.

“Hey, come on, get up,” Steve says, moving past you and towards the seats in the back of the room. When the couple doesn’t move, still insisting on pissing you off, Steve turns back towards them, whistling to catch their attention, “Come on, she’s not worth the fight, let’s go!”

Steve Harrington. King of Hawkins High, member of the basketball team, currently enamored with none other than Nancy Wheeler, or so you’ve heard. Not that you were one for following gossip.

Over your years in Hawkins, Steve’s barely given you the light of day, and why would he? Friend of seventh graders, remember?

Not that you had any problem with a lack of attention from him, he didn’t seem like the type to give a shit about other people - just ask any of the girls he’s thrown away. Makes sense why him and Nancy get along so well.

Carol promptly hops off your desk and gets pulled away by Tommy before you can even react. You roll your eyes at their disgusting examples of PDA before setting your bag down and pulling out the chair. You can’t wait for this to be over.

* * *

Your shift ends at nine and was predictably uneventful; no one feels like delivery on a Monday night. The small pizza shop on the corner of Sixth and Pike has proven to be a surprisingly well paying job, all just for delivery and working the register. You can’t wait to shower and get the smell of oregano and garlic off of you.

“Dustin, I’m home!” You shake off your slick raincoat in the garage, making a mental note to gather up some laundry for tomorrow. The pouring rain made it hard for you to bike home, only making you wish harder that you were able to save up for a car.

You do a double-take after noticing that your brother’s bike isn’t in the usual spot next to the washing machine, and you remember what Hopper said to you earlier: _“Don’t let ‘em go sneaking around looking for their friend, alright?”_

“Shit,” You shove your face into your palms, “Shit, shit shit!” 

Dustin’s room is empty. All of his necessities are missing; his backpack and walkie are gone. All the good snacks were taken from the cabinets, a clear sign of his intentions. Of course, they went to look for Will.

You don’t know what you’re going to do about them, but you realize that there’s nothing you can do now except wait for them to return. Then you’ll give them a piece of your mind.

The steam from the hot water caused your flyaways to stick to your forehead. You attempt to brush them back into place with your fingers before starting to root around in your closet.

The waistband to the bottoms are just over your hips when you hear a static crackle coming from underneath your bed, and you can barely make out Dustin’s voice through it.

“Y/N? Are you there? Do you copy?” You tug your shirt on over your head before trying to grab the radio from behind various pairs of shoes. After managing to get a hold of it and ignoring the head rush, you pull up the antenna after adjusting the dials for a clearer signal, “Dustin, Jesus Christ, where the hell have you been?”

“Say ‘over’ when you’re done talking so I know that you’re done! Over!” You roll your eyes and huff, “What were you thinking, going out in a storm like this? It’s super dangerous, _over_.”

“Y/N, you’ve gotta get over here to Mike’s. You’ve gotta see this, right now. It’s a Code. Red. over.”

“Are you serious? Did you forget the part about the massive storm, dumbass-”

“Did you or did you not say you wanted to be invited on our next adventure? Well, we’ve just come across the adventure of a lifetime, over.”

You groan as you lean your head against the plastic of the walkie talkie. You’re certain this kid’s gonna die by your hands once you see him.

You hate to admit that the curiosity is weighing you down, and you run your fingers through your hair, “If this is something super dumb, I’m gonna be really pissed. I’m on my way, over and out.”

* * *

“You know, when I said I wanted to be invited on your next adventure, this is _not_ what I had in mind,” You stand with your arms crossed over your chest, staring down at Dustin and dripping rainwater onto the Wheeler’s carpet. 

“I know, I know, but you’ve gotta believe me,” Dustin says as he pleads with you, hands clutched to his chest. You scoff, glancing aimlessly around the room in frustration at what he’s told you. Lucas doesn’t even dare to try and intervene - he knows better.

“Okay, okay. Lemme get this straight,” You begin, eyes closing as you process what Dustin reiterated to you, “You and the other dipshits decide to go out and look for your missing friend, against direct orders from _the chief of police_. And instead of finding your friend, you come across a girl with a buzzcut and you have no idea where she came from.”

Dustin smiles slightly, “Yep, that’s exactly it.” You laugh at him, it all sounding too ridiculous to comprehend, “What, are you NUTS? What kind of story is that? Testing Mike’s new campaign on me, is that it, huh?”

“Y/N, come on, it’s all true! We found her in the woods by Mirkwood. Tell her Lucas!” Dustin turns to his friend for backup and Lucas puts his hands up in defense, still not interested in getting involved.

Just as you’re about to tell off Dustin even more, the bathroom door opens further to reveal a small child with a shaved head, maybe a year younger than your brother, and in what are clearly Ted Wheeler’s sweats. 

You swallow the lump in your throat and your gaze towards the child doesn’t falter. Dustin looks to you, taking notice of your slacked jaw and confused eyes as you speak, “Start at the beginning.”


End file.
